Amanda Renee - A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas

“Apparently.” Dylan arched against her as she squeezed his shoulders.

“You stink.” His odor was probably her only saving grace. If he had smelled musky and manly, she might not have been able to control herself. And she wouldn’t have been able to blame it on her pregnancy hormones.

By the time they reached the lodge, she needed another change of clothes. She didn’t want to sit down to dinner smelling like... Dylan. She wanted to make a graceful escape from the back of the snowmobile—unfortunately getting on was easier than getting off. The story of her pregnancy.

After Dylan’s assistance, she managed to break free of him. “Thank you for the ride.” She headed into the lodge. She may have been grateful for the ride, but she was still mad at him.

“Emma, wait.”

She didn’t bother to stop. She’d had enough of Dylan Slade for one day.

Chapter Three

Emma hadn’t realized she’d slept through dinner until she heard a soft knock at the door. If her stomach hadn’t been grumbling, she would’ve ignored it. She couldn’t deal with another minute of Dylan this evening. She checked the peephole, surprised to see Sandy standing in the hallway holding a tray.

She unlocked the door and eased it open. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

“That’s okay. I figured that’s what happened so I brought you dinner. May I come in?” Emma stepped aside as the petite brunette entered the room and set the tray on the small table near the window. “I wanted to apologize for the way I spoke to you earlier. I’m a little frazzled with my Christmas Day wedding coming up. It’s no excuse, though.”

“Believe me, I realize I’m the enemy. We’re on opposite sides. It’s cool. I do hope you have the wedding of your dreams.”

“Thanks.” Sandy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear that had worked its way loose from her French braid. “There’s a little bit of everything on here. If you want more, just ring downstairs. I see Dylan brought you up the Christmas tree. I know he’s a little gruff on the outside, but he really is a big teddy bear once you get to know him.”

“Somehow I don’t think anyone’s going to mistake Dylan for a squishable stuffed animal anytime soon.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind me telling you he was the one who fixed your tray.” Sandy winked as she walked into the hallway. “I live here in the lodge. Extension 307. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks, I will.” Emma closed the door.

Dylan fixed her tray? She eyed it warily. “I wonder what he did to it.”

She lifted the plate to remove the plastic wrap and found a folded note.

I’m sorry for earlier.

Dylan.

Well, that was unexpected. The smell of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy got the best of her. And then she saw them...butter beans. He remembered. There was also a huge slab of chocolate cake, macaroni and cheese and a slice of meatloaf. Classic comfort food. She’d never desired it until this very moment. And she planned to eat every ounce of it or explode trying.

Halfway through her meal, her text-message tone sounded from the other side of the table. She’d forgotten to turn her phone back off after calling her best friend, Jennie, to help forget her argument with Dylan. She wanted to ignore it, but she was already full anyway. She reached for her phone and tapped the screen to see a message from her boss.

Conference call tomorrow. 1 p.m. Chicago time. Want update.

Her boss had a penchant for caveman text messaging and emails. She didn’t know if she was supposed to call him or he was supposed to call her. Either way, it wouldn’t be a good conversation. At least it gave her the morning to prepare for it. She would have preferred to wait until after Dylan heard her proposal, if she could ever convince him to give her half a chance. Maybe her boss could offer some insight on how to change Dylan’s mind, although that felt as if she were admitting she didn’t have any ideas of her own.

Emma would have preferred staying in her room for the rest of the night, but she didn’t think Silver Bells had tray pick up, especially since they didn’t offer room service. While she was down there, she’d find out about laundry service or the use of a washing machine and dryer.

Carrying her tray down a flight of stairs proved to be more precarious than she’d anticipated. She couldn’t wait for her center of gravity to be back where it belonged. By the time she reached the kitchen, she’d broken out into a cold sweat. Thankfully, she hadn’t made a scene by dropping the tray along the way.

A group of around twenty people had gathered near the fireplace while someone played guitar and sang “Jingle Bell Rock.” She loved that song. It had always put her in a festive holiday mood. She walked toward the small crowd, singing along until she caught a glimpse of who was playing. Dylan. Of course, it had to be Dylan.

A slow easy grin settled over his face as his eyes met hers. He continued to sing, and for a moment, everyone else disappeared. When the song ended, their applause jolted her back to reality. Good thing it was only a fantasy, because the last thing she wanted was to be alone with Dylan again. They’d kissed and made up and that was good enough for her. Kissed? No! She could not think about kissing Dylan Slade.

Absolutely not.

Not going to happen.

Not even in her dreams.

Okay, so she had kissed him in her dreams once before. But that was then and this was now.

He began playing Brooks & Dunn’s “Hangin’ ’Round the Mistletoe,” which sounded dangerously sexy when Dylan sang it. He had a great voice. It didn’t help that he still hadn’t broken eye contact. She wanted to look away first, but she couldn’t will herself to do so. That was until she noticed everyone else was staring at her. Great. Now she felt even more self-conscious. And then she realized why she was the center of attention. Hanging above her head was none other than a sprig of mistletoe. Double crap!

* * *

DYLAN ENDED THE song to a round of applause. He placed the house guitar back on the stand where anyone was welcome to play it. Emma had latched herself on to two other female guests, probably to avoid him. And who could blame her.

The three of them disappeared, leaving him to wonder if he would see Emma again tonight. Dylan attempted to mingle with the ranch’s guests. They didn’t have a full house, but they had managed to fill almost a dozen rooms. Instead of making small talk or thinking about Emma, he needed to focus on finding a new investor. The road closures meant the kids living on the ranch wouldn’t have school. He’d bribe them to muck the stalls tomorrow if his brother didn’t show up for work again. There was no point in saying anything to Wes, because he never stayed around long enough for it to matter. That didn’t mean the responsibility of the horses was going away anytime soon.

He still couldn’t get what Emma had told him about Jax out of his head. Had his uncle truly believed selling the ranch was in Dylan’s best interest? It would have been different if Lauren had left a few months ago. Then maybe he could have salvaged his marriage. In the end, it probably would have only been a temporary bandage. Sometimes you couldn’t fix what wasn’t meant to be.

When Emma reappeared, he could have sworn his heart quickened. But that was impossible, unless it was out of aggravation. A part of him wanted to find out what else Jax had said to her about him, but the other part figured he was better off not knowing. Sandy and Luke interrupted his thoughts when they carried out two large trays of s’mores fixings and told the guests to grab their jackets and follow them outside.

A fire was already burning in the stone fire pit behind the lodge. A light snow continued to fall as flames danced between him and Emma while Sandy showed her how to make the melted chocolate, toasted marshmallow and graham cracker sandwich. For someone as worldly as he thought she was, he found it funny that she had never made s’mores before. Then again, she was a city girl.